


Snap, Crackle...Oops

by seriousshit88



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:22:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17083694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousshit88/pseuds/seriousshit88
Summary: Scott and Stiles make a delicious treat for the pack holiday party.Well, that's the plan, anyway...





	Snap, Crackle...Oops

**Author's Note:**

> Scott is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns. Also this story is not sponsored by Kellog's, I swear.
> 
> Kat, I hope you enjoy this little fic. Merry Christmas! 🎄🎅🎁

“Do you think that’s enough marshmallows?” Scott asked, their face scrunched in dubious uncertainty. “I could only find the mini ones at the store, but this recipe calls for big marshmallows.”

Stiles peeked in the pot at the melty, gooey mass Scott was stirring in their shared kitchen. “Well, I’m not sure what the current conversion rate between mini marshmallows and giant marshmallows is…”

“Could you guess?”

“Maybe, like, four minis to a big one?”

Scott nodded. “Sounds about right.” 

Actually, it didn’t sound right, but Scott had come too far to turn back now. They added a little more butter for good measure. And the last of the marshmallows, too, because why not?

The pack holiday party was only two hours away. With everyone converging on Beacon Hills for the party, Scott wanted to make sure everything went smoothly. So, they were making enough Rice Krispie Treats to feed a small horde of supernatural beings (and assorted humans). The order _might_ have been a little taller than expected, because between their work as a vet and Stiles still rookieying at the FBI, neither of them had time to make anything. It was down to the wire, and, well, things were starting to get a bit sticky.

“Get the big bowls with the cereal in it,” Scott said, motioning to a spot on the counter. “I think it’s time to just cross our fingers and do this.”

Stiles dutifully grabbed the two large bowls Scott had already filled with Rice Krispies and brought them closer to the stove. He made a show of crossing his fingers and waving them around over the bowls. At Scott’s questioning eyebrow, Stiles said, “For good luck, like you said.”

“Are you done blessing the Krispies?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” Stiles stepped aside and let Scott pour the marshmallow mixture into the first bowl. They both watched with bated breath as the viscous blob slowly covered the cereal. After what seemed like forever, there was finally enough for this batch.

“Okay, stir that before it sets,” Scott said. “There’s another spoon over there.”

“Already on it.” Stiles began mixing the cereal.

Scott tipped the pot over the second bowl and scooped out as much of the marshmallow goop as they could. This time was harder because things were starting to cool and set. But that wasn’t the only reason for the difficulty.

“Uh-oh,” they said, scraping the pot.

“What? What uh-oh?” Stiles asked.

“We’re out of marshmallow.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah,” they sighed. Scott had a feeling this would happen.

“Hold on. I have to get this in the cake pan while it’s still spreadable,” Stiles said as he walked his bowl over to a pair of greased pans waiting further down on the counter. “We need a plan B.”

Scott stirred what little bit of marshmallow made it to the bowl. There was enough for maybe three treats, max. Liam alone was guaranteed to grab that many the second they showed up at Derek’s.

Why couldn’t marshmallow sizes just be standardized? Life would be so much easier.

Stiles placed his pan in the fridge and let out a heavy sigh.

“You can't possibly be tired already?” Scott teased.

“Hey, I’m trying to help. You wanted me, your loving boyfriend, to help make something for the pack party, even though you volunteered us without asking-”

“Excuse you, but I didn’t volunteer us for anything. _Lydia_ told me what we were making. There wasn’t really much of a discussion. She said, and I quote, “Rice Krispie Treats are impossible to screw up and easy to make. It’s perfect for you two.””

“And look what happened!”

They looked down at the saddest, most pitiful bowl of unformed Rice Krispie Treats in existence. A laugh suddenly bubbled up, breaking the dejected silence and catching them off guard. 

“What’s so funny?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing, really. I just-” Scott wiped away a tear. “I performed open heart surgery on a lizard last week, and today, I did _this_ to Rice Krispie Treats.” The absurdity of the situation hit all at once, and Scott couldn’t stop laughing. Stiles eventually joined in, and they both just stood there laughing for what was probably way longer than some stupid Rice Krispies were worth.

To Scott, though, it felt more like a release, like a valve opened and let a ton of holiday stress they didn’t know they’d been carrying finally vent out into the atmosphere.

“I got it!” Stiles exclaimed mid-chuckle. “Balls!”

Scott stopped laughing, leaving a confused smile behind. “Uh…”

“Don’t make that face at me. Our Krispie Balls are going to save this party.”

A few seconds ticked by as Scott tried to figure out what the hell Stiles was talking about. Realization eventually dawned on them. “You, um...wanna rephrase that, buddy?” Scott asked, biting back a laugh before they ended up in a fit again.

Stiles winced. “I heard it as I said it. Just...where are the toothpicks, so we can get this over with?”

Scott pointed to the pantry. 

Stiles visually inspected the toothpicks and nodded to himself, satisfied with their quantity, apparently. “Okay, here’s the plan. We turn whatever’s useable in that bowl into little Rice Krispie Balls and stick them on toothpicks.”

“Like tiny hors d'oeuvres?” Scott asked.

“Exactly.”

Scott grabbed Stiles’s shoulders and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “See, that’s why I keep you around.”

Stiles’s resulting smile was more obnoxiously smug than it needed to be, but Scott was too relieved to tease him about it. Instead, they washed their hands and began rolling out little Krispie Balls.

Yes, that’s what they were calling them.

Ten minutes later, all of the viable Rice Krispie mixture ran out. 19 little balls sat proudly with their toothpicks in the other greased pan. Stiles put them in the fridge alongside their more traditional brethren to fully set.

“All right. Time to clean up and get ready. Thanks for your help, Stiles,” Scott said. Then, more slyly, “I owe you, don’t I?”

Stiles waved them off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just party snacks. No big...deal...oh, God...”

Scott had grabbed his sticky hand mid-wave and very deftly licked a bit of marshmallow from one of Stiles’s fingers. It legit tasted good, and Scott silently applauded their choice of recipes.

“Hey, um, how about we--ah--forget the rest of the pack and just...have our own little party right here?” Stiles said with some effort.

“We have to go. I haven’t seen everyone in one place for a long time.” Scott (reluctantly) dropped Stiles’s hand. “I think it’s an alpha thing.”

“I guess,” Stiles sulked.

Suddenly, Scott had an idea. “You know, we don’t have long to get cleaned up. How about we share a shower. To save time.”

“Save time?”

“Yep. Just two folks saving some time in the shower. Together.”

Stiles smirked. “Looks like I’m not the only one full of good ideas today.”

“Last one in the shower doesn’t get any Krispie Balls,” Scott said, shoving past Stiles to get to their bathroom. The sight of Stiles trying to actually outrun them was definitely worth the price of a few marshmallows.


End file.
